Engraven
by Skull Bearer
Summary: The results of Raistlin's Test are hard to accept, even for the normally unshakable Dalamar. While the two mages attempt to get used to the changes, other, more violent events are lurking just below the horizon. Fourth in 'Ivory and Ebony' series. Slash.
1. Hourglass Conspiracies

_Here it is, the sequel to Ice and Steel. I own nothing._

**Engraven**

Hourglass Conspiracies

_Water was running; children were running  
You were running out of time  
Under the mountain, a golden fountain  
Were you praying at the Lares shrine?  
-Siouxsie And The Banshees, Cities In Dust._

Raistlin clutched the cup tightly, feeling the heat of the liquid it held burn the chill from his hands. He stared down at the mixture of leaves and herbs that made up the herbal tea in an effort not to meet Dalamar's eyes. The Dark elf's eyes bore through him, as they had every day since he'd returned from the Test.

He knew why, it was the same reason he stared at his reflection every time he saw it. He was trying to get used to the fact that this was what he looked like now. Now and forever, thanks to the Test.

Raistlin could understand, but that didn't mean he had to like it. Lifting his eyes from the foul-smelling brew, he met Dalamar's gaze squarely.

The Dark elf had the courtesy to look embarrassed and it was his turn to study his hands. "My apologies," he murmured, barely audible over the crackle of the campfire, "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"Being under constant scrutiny has a way of making anyone uncomfortable." Raistlin snapped.

There was silence as they both stared into the fire. Raistlin lifted the cup to his lips, ignoring the pain as the hot liquid burnt his tongue.

"I am sorry." Dalamar's eyes were down, staring at the white-hot embers within the blaze. The sorrow in his eyes was palpable and Raistlin felt his anger melt away, to be replaced with his own sadness. He could never stay angry with Dalamar, especially like this.

One finger brushed Raistlin's chin, urging him to look up from his cup. He raised his head and his golden eyes met Dalamar's silver ones. The Dark elf's mouth twitched, as it always did when he was upset, and he had never seen Dalamar as upset as when he told him how Par-Salian had cursed him. The fact that the Dark elf himself was untouched by the decay that twisted almost everything else in Raistlin's gaze was little consolation.

"Par-Salian gave you those." It was no question, Dalamar knew this already, but Raistlin nodded anyway.

"And he gave you this." Dalamar indicated the Staff of Magius, Raistlin's hand went instinctively to the warm wood, but nodded again.

"He gave you a staff who's sole purpose was to destroy Dragons," Dalamar was talking half to Raistlin, half to himself, "There's a war just over the horizon and Dragons have been mentioned, then you are given that staff. I think Par-Salian knows more than he's letting on."

Raistlin nodded a third time, he'd thought the same. "What does this have to do with-"

"He wants you to be a weapon." Dalamar interrupted, "He's too old and getting too weak to face down the coming enemy, whoever it is, so he wants someone to face them down for him."

"Perhaps." Raistlin looked back into the flames, "He certainly was very evasive when I asked why he'd given it to me, but if he wanted me to fight for him, why curse me?"

Dalamar's face twisted, "He wants you to be a weapon, Raistlin, a sword to battle the enemy when he can't. But the problem with swords is that they are double edged, they can cut both ways. He wants you to fight for him, but not to pose any danger later on."

He paused and caught the younger mage's gaze with him own, the reflected fire burnt darkly in the Dark elf's eyes. "How better, than to make sure you don't live long enough to be a threat? And what better way to do that, than to take away any joy you might have?"

Raistlin nearly dropped the cup. "Are you suggesting that Par-Salian did this in the hope I would eventually kill myself?"

Silver eyes glimmered, "I fail to see why else he'd have given you those eyes. He takes away any pleasure you might find, and after you have served your _purpose_," Dalamar sneered, "You conveniently disappear, and he doesn't even have to dirty his saintly white robes to do it."

"And if that was the case, those 'saintly white robes' would have soon turned as black as your own." Raistlin shook his head, "Par-Salian is the Head of the order of White Robes, I doubt he would act this way."

"Oh, I daresay he could justify it to himself, perhaps he thinks that by using you as a weapon, he will save many lives, and that by this curse he will save many more, only this time he will save them; not from an enemy's blades, but from your spells. The life of one in exchange for that of hundreds."

Raistlin closed his eyes, blocking out a dying world. Perhaps Dalamar was right, he thought, perhaps not, but he knew one thing...

He shifted sideways until he was leaning up against his lover's warm body, "I can promise you, Dalamar Nightson, that I have no plans to die anytime soon."

Equally warm arms slid around him in a sweet embrace and a kiss was pressed against his whisper-white hair. "I hope not, Raistlin Majere, I love you far to much to ever let you go, ever, no matter _what_ happens."

"Be quiet." Raistlin murmured, twisting around and pressing a kiss against Dalamar's lips, swallowing anything else the Dark elf might say. Really, he'd thought Dalamar above such pillow-talk.  
He reached up and tangled his hands into Dalamar's black hair, occasionally brushing and toying with a slender pointed ear.

Dalamar all but purred with pleasure, Raistlin knew how sensitive the elf's ears were and how much he loved having them played with. It was the perfect way to distract his lover from his black mood, and from saying things that Raistlin didn't think he could cope with right now.

A smile crossed Dalamar's handsome face, his eyes drifted closed and he leaned down to rub his face gently against Raistlin's. Then he sighed and sat back, pulling Raistlin in closer until the younger mage's face was pressed into the Dark elf's robes.

"I'm so sorry." Dalamar's voice was soft and sad.

"Dalamar," Raistlin's words were slightly muffled but still clear, as was the irritation in them, "In this entire mess, there is no one more blameless than you."

"I know that," Dalamar said, "but when I see you like this," and here he brushed a hand gently against Raistlin's all-too-thin face, "I can't help but wonder if I could have done...something."

Raistlin shook his head, "You could have done nothing, don't bother feeling guilty."

Dalamar smiled "I'll try not to." His hand crept up Raistlin's neck and scratched through his white hair, then changed the subject "How's your chest feeling?"

The pain had gone, if Par-Salian had done him any good turn at all, the tea recipe was the one. "It's fine, the tea did its work well."

"I wish you could tell me what caused that." He paused, then touched the young mage's golden face, "Or this, as a matter of fact."

Raistlin shook his head again, he hadn't told Dalamar about Fistandantilus, he wished he didn't know himself. He could not bring himself to so much as picture the look of horror the knowledge would bring to his lover's face, let alone do anything to put it there. If there was anything they could do to change the situation, Raistlin would tell the truth in a heartbeat, but as it was...

No, bad enough that he knew, he didn't want for Dalamar to share that burden.

"Please, don't ask me to. You know I must keep this secret."

"Even from me?"

Raistlin fought back a shudder, "Especially from you, Dalamar, you of all people should understand why I have to do this."

"Yes." Dalamar's voice was cold, "I can relate, and look at where keeping my secrets got me."

Raistlin winced, as he always did when anyone mentioned the incident, three months ago, when his idiotic twin brother Caramon announced Dalamar's unpleasant past for all of Solace to hear. He hated thinking about it and it would be a long time, if ever, before he forgave Caramon.

"Please."

Dalamar sighed, "Very well, I won't pry anymore."

"Thank you." Raistlin snuggled in closer, letting the Dark elf's body heat block out the cold that seemed to be frozen in his bones.

_Please tell me if this is up to my usual standards._

_Skull Bearer._


	2. Mountain Pursuit

_DreyCirca: This bunny is insane, I can't rest for more than a few days before it's on my case!_

_Tsukiyo no Yume: Dalamar's a black robed mage and a suspicious sort, both of which Raistlin takes into account._

_Pen D. Fox: I believe old Parsley fooled no-one with that little explanation._

_freesnow: Cheers!_

_Thank you as always for Dalamar Nightson for the beta and Miqael for the great ideas._

_My NC-17 version of Ice and Steel is up on my account, the address is in my bio._

**Engraven**

Mountain Pursuit

_But oh your city lies in dust, my friend,  
But oh your city lies in dust, my friend,  
Your city lies in dust.  
-Siouxsie And The Banshees, Cities In Dust_.

The first flickers of the pre-dawn light were enough to wake Raistlin that morning. He had always been a light sleeper and the aftermath of the Test only made rest harder to come by.

Not that he minded, sleep had always seemed such a waste of time.

Raistlin sat up, shivering and wincing as the cold air wrapped an iron cord around his lungs. Choking back a cough, he hurriedly pulled his robes on and stoked up the last, smoldering flickers of last night's fire, sending sparks shimmering into the cloudy gray sky.

It was while he was fastening his boots that the sounds reached him, sounds of marching and the occasional shout coming from further up the road beside which he and Dalamar had set up camp the night before.

Well whoever they were, they were unlikely to be friendly, Raistlin decided. In these times, with Ansalon teetering on the brink of war, it was wise to be on your guard.

The mage scuffed soil over the fire and dug his still-sleeping lover in the ribs. Dalamar jumped awake, eyes darting around to see what the danger was. Raistlin had no need to tell him to be quiet though, the Dark elf's keen ears had already picked up the noise.

"Gods!" Dalamar swore softly, "Quick, finish putting that fire out. I'll go and see what it is."

Raistlin nodded, pausing for a moment to watch Dalamar hurrying towards the trees that bordered the road from this side before turning back to his task.

He had barely thrown two handfuls of earth over the dying embers before Dalamar came running back. "Forget about that!" He shouted, "There are at least two troops of goblins coming this way. We have to leave now!"

Raistlin froze, then snatched up the Staff of Magius and their few belongings, he didn't have to ask Dalamar whether the goblins had seen him, the elf's expression and the increased noise level behind them said it all. Clearly the goblins hadn't been at all pleased to have been spotted.

It was one of the few times that the mages were glad they owned so little, by the time the first goblin had burst through the line of trees, they had not only finished gathering their packs but had gotten quite a good head start.

Raistlin resisted the urge to look back and kept his eyes fixed on the range of mountain they were running towards. They had set up camp just south of the Sentinel Peaks, and since no one had yet mapped the myriad of trails and pathways through the area, they offered the two mages the best place to lose their pursuers.

Trying to ignore the shouts from behind them, Raistlin struggled to keep his footing as the ground sloped up sharply and rocks jutted out where the soil had eroded. They ran up a short rise between two large jagged stones, then down into a narrow valley between the mountains. Dalamar gave a muffled curse as he stumbled on the uneven ground, he caught his balance and hurried on.

The valley continued straight on, boulders scattered across it's shallow expanse as it rose sharply to meet the moutains on either side. Hardy grass clung on in places along the craggy rocks and animal trails led off in all directions.

The footfalls of their pursuers were louder now, crunching up the rise they had just cleared; Raistlin grabbed Dalamar's arm and pulled them both out the valley and on onto a path. It ran behind a large stone outcropping and put them both out of sight of the goblins.

The two mages slowed, partly as not to alert their enemies as to which path they had taken, but also because the trail was a on a meter-wide ledge with a sheer cliff on one side and a sharp drop on the other.

The progress was slow, edging around with their backs to the cliff, but the goblins must have hared off down the wrong path because there was neither sight nor sound of their pursuers.

Raistlin allowed himself a flicker of respite; they had escaped. He was surprised that he had been able to make it this far, especially while running.

As if those thoughts had triggered it, Raistlin felt his lungs spasm and his throat close. He ducked his head down and tried to will back the oncoming attack, but this time it was beyond him.

Not only would it immediately tell the goblins where they were, but a bad attack would effectively put the mage out of the fight, and this was promising to be a very bad one.

Perhaps he didn't have the strength to stop it, but Raistlin knew who did. The same person who had torn his lungs apart in the first place.

It was a risk, it always was a risk, but there was no real choice. He cast his awareness into that corner of his mind where Fistandantilus's power ebbed through.

It was _cold_, cold as ice, cold as death. Cold enough to put out the wildfire raging in his chest and allow him to take in a breath.

Badly weakened and very shaky, Raistlin slumped back against the hard rock of the cliff, gulping in air. After a moment he became aware of a hand stroking his hair soothingly.

He opened his eyes; Dalamar had sidled up next to him and was looking very relieved, "How are you feeling?"

"Better," Raistlin sighed, "But I will need my tea soon."

"Do you think you could hang on until we reach a cave or some such place?" Dalamar asked.

The younger mage nodded, there were plenty of caves in the weather beaten Sentinel Peaks.

* * *

Raistlin blew on his fingers to warm them, the cave they had found was quite high up in the mountains, high enough that the frail mage felt slightly dizzy, and open to the freezing southern wind. Despite the fact that this made it seem more like winter than the early autumn it was, it worked to their benefit, dispersing the smoke from the fire within the cave, rather than outside where the goblin troops might see it.

Raistlin picked up his cup and took a sip of the bitter tea. He was sitting with his back against a natural stone pillar, out of the wind. The cave they had found was a large one, so large that even the firelight didn't penetrate its depths, leaving the back wall in shadow.

Raistlin looked back around the stalagmite. Dalamar was putting out the fire, kicking at the wood and scattering the embers.

The mage smiled to himself, drinking down the last of the foul-smelling mixture. He was just putting down the cup when he spotted something distinctly odd. Setting the cup down on a flat area of ground, he got up and made his way towards the back of the cave.

It went back further than he'd first thought, despite having lit the Staff of Magius the back of the cave was still lost in the dark.  
He had no need to go that far in though, after all, it had been the sunlight that had alerted him that this cave might not be all they had thought it would be. The soft shimmer of light on a polished surface not far from where he had been sitting.

He heard Dalamar's footsteps behind him, the Dark elf would have seen Raistlin light the Staff and come to see what he had found.

Raistlin turned around and looked questioningly at his lover, "What do you make of that?"

_Skull Bearer._


	3. Deep Remains

_Dagmar the Dark: Cheers!_

_Lady Halley: Yeah, I hate when fanfic writers do that too. Dalamar wears black robes for a reason, and it's not because he's a wimp! I love this pairing to bits and there's a sorry lack of good fanfiction out there. Thanks for your nice review and I hoe you like this._

_DreyaCira: Thanks for the review, enjoy._

_BHS: Yes, very evil bows._

_Tsukiyo no Yume: That's the chapter in a nutshell, _;) _glad you liked._

**Engraven**

Deep Remains

_We found you hiding, we found you lying  
Choking on the dirt and sand  
Your former glories and all the stories  
Dragged and washed with eager hands  
-Cities in Dust, Siouxsie and the Banshees_

Dalamar ran his hand over the stone, brushing against the cracks lining it. "Man-made, dwarf-made more likely, I'd wager this is not a natural cave."

Raistlin nodded, he'd thought the same. "An ancient outpost of Thorbardin?"

Dalamar shrugged, "It could have been, this is old work Raistlin, very old. I'm guessing the cracks were caused either by the Cataclysm or by the destruction of Zhaman"  
He took a step back, and smiled at Raistlin. "Do you feel recovered enough to take a look around?"

Raistlin nodded, it was true that it would be a while before the search for them died down in the mountains, so they would be best off lying low for a while. But...

This place was close to where Zhaman, the ancient fortress of Fistandantilus, had once stood. While the ruin itself promised little more than a swift death to any who approached it, perhaps this place, so close, would offer some of the artifacts rumored to still lie within Skullcap?

The cave was definitely an oddity, Raistlin mused. The mouth had been left untouched and rough, but once they had pushed their way further into it's depths the floor became relatively smooth. Here and there deep cracks marred its surface, a relic of the Cataclysm that had shaken Krynn.

The walls too were smooth, and sloped strangely inward so that the tunnel the two mages were in was shaped like a triangle. It was an odd way to shape an underground passage, for without beams holding the walls up it was liable to collapse. Raistlin was surprised it hadn't done so already; cracks had spidered along the walls and ceiling as they had the floor, making him more than slightly nervous. Water dripped from the cracks in the ceiling, trickling away through the ones in the floor.

"It has held this long, and I'm certain it will hold up for the next few hours," Dalamar said, catching the concern in his eyes.

The Dark elf didn't look too comfortable either, clearly not used to being underground. "This is for dwarves," he added, with a self-deprecating smile.

Raistlin didn't bother asking him if he wanted to go back, he already knew what Dalamar would say; say he was fine, he'd had worse, he wouldn't leave Raistlin alone here, if there was magic to be had he'd face far more than this.

It would be a waste of breath, and breath was such a precious commodity when it was so hard to catch. Raistlin hunched over, the damp air locking in his lungs and his throat closing. It was a bad attack, and when it was over he was leaning against the wall, drained.

Dalamar lay his hand on the mage's shoulder. "Perhaps we should go back, it can't be good for you to be down here."

Golden eyes narrowed as he gasped for breath, "I will be fine, don't fuss over me."

"I hate to see you like this." Dalamar averted his eyes, sighing.

Raistlin started back down the passage, "Don't pity me."

Dalamar looked at him, his face a mix of emotions, then he sighed again, shook his head, and followed the human mage.

* * *

When Raistlin first saw them, he wasn't sure what they were.

Dalamar's keen eyes first picked out the strange whorls and patterns decorating the walls and ceiling. Blackened and smudged, they started at floor level and arched upwards, across the ceiling and down again along the opposite wall to the ground.

The Dark elf ran his hand over the strange marks, gathering a little oily black residue on his fingers. He looked at Raistlin, eyebrows raised in a question.

The human mage shrugged, it could have been almost anything from a tribal cave painting to a broken magical ward.

After examining the patterns a while longer and not coming to any conclusion, they moved on, the markings had been too blasted and cracked for anything to be made of them. Whatever they had once been, they were harmless now.

A few meters on, they passed another set of markings. The patterns were different, but once again they spanned the walls and ceiling and once again they were too damaged to work out their meaning.

By the time they had passed the fourth set, Raistlin was growing suspicious.

Dalamar clearly shared his feelings because the Dark elf quickly cast a spell, one to discern if there was any magic in the area, on the patterns.

The did glow; but it was the weak, flickering light of a dying firefly rather than the dazzling glare of magical runes. These were wards then, Raistlin thought, but they had been ruined beyond use.

The wonder was not that they had been ruined, between the Cataclysm and the destruction of Zhaman it was notsurprising, but who or what had wanted to hide something badly enough to ward a passageway this heavily?

Dalamar must have come to the same conclusion, because when he turned back to the younger mage, he was grinning darkly.

They went on in silence, their eyes on the wards, looking out for any that might still be active. Oddly enough there were none, all were little more than tracings of blackened soot on the walls.

Dalamar spoke, shattering the quiet, "Perhaps they were some kind of explosive runes? And when first one is set off, the next follows, then the next and so on?"

Raistlin looked back at the last set of wards they'd passed, "If so, then why is the ceiling still standing? Even one explosion should have caused a cave-in."

The Dark elf looked pensive, then nodded.

* * *

The tunnel's end was abrupt; the mages rounded a corner and found themselves faced with a double door.

It must have once been a formidable barrier, made of black iron and reaching up three meters from floor to ceiling. The dully glowing remnants of wards studded its smooth surface and the lock was large and complex.

But now it had succumbed to time and damage like everything else in this place. The two doors sagged drunkenly, half off the massive hinges anchoring them to the rock. The wards were as useless as the others they had passed, barely flickering as they drew up to them. The doors hung open, leaving a gap large enough to ride a horse through. The inside was as dark as a dragon's mouth.

Eager to see what had been so zealously guarded, Raistlin stepped forward first, only to be held back by Dalamar. "Perhaps I should go through first."

The human mage scowled, "Dalamar, how many times do I have to remind you that despite all evidence to the contrary, I can look after myself? You are beginning to sound like my brother."

The Dark elf straightened, the barb had struck home. "I just want to keep you from getting hurt, remember that."

"I remember, and I also remember that you once let me make my own decisions as to what I could and couldn't handle."

"Things are different."

"Are they? Some things may have changed, Dalamar, but my ability to judge myself and what I can or cannot do has not. If you can't trust me with yourself, then at least trust me with myself."

The Dark elf hung his head, but Raistlin hasn't finished, he had to say this before things went too far. "You promised me once that I could trust you, that you wouldn't be the one to drag me down. I hold you to that promise."

Dalamar nodded slowly, then he lifted one hand and stroked Raistlin's cheek. "You are wise, and completely right. I'm sorry. As you said, I have been acting like that ass Caramon."

Raistlin smiled, it took a lot for the Dark elf to admit he was wrong, but when he did you knew he'd got the message.

"I love you very much, remember that." the elf's fingers brushed down his face, and were replaced with his lips.

Raistlin smiled, then gestured towards the broken open doors, Dalamar nodded, and they slipped inside the dark room.

_Skull Bearer._


	4. Broken Tablet

_Dagmar the Dark- Long live no Yume- Thanks, I liked writing it._

_Lady Hally- Love can be a great strength... or weakness._

**Broken Tablet**

_Water was running; children were running  
We found you hiding, we found you lying  
Water was running; children were running  
We found you hiding, we found you lying  
your city lies in dust  
-Siouxsie and the Banshees, Cities in Dust._

Raistlin blinked, the glass-smooth walls of the chamber amplified the light from his Staff until the brightness was dazzling, especially after so long in a gloomy tunnel.

Dalamar's eyes adapted first and the Dark elf cursed loudly when he saw what was in the room.

Raistlin rubbed his eyes and looked around, at first he thought his cursed eyes were playing tricks on him, but no.

The room was empty.

Raistlin wondered if they could have taken a wrong turning, then laughed at the thought. There had been no other passageways, no other doors. Clearly, they hadn't been the first to find this passageway. What fools they had been to think that this place would have remained untouched for so long!

"Well, I suppose that answers the question as to why the wards were all broken," he said, glancing once again around the room.

Dalamar sighed, then paused, staring at one of the walls. Raistlin followed his gaze and frowned, puzzled. Nothing looked out of place to him.

Beckoning the younger mage to follow, the Dark elf made his way towards the expanse of wall that had attracted his attention.

Raistlin had gone only a few feet before he saw what his lover had noticed, there was an odd play of shadows on the back wall of the room. He picked up his pace and drew closer to examine whatever it was; perhaps something would come out of this exploration after all.

The play of shadows was caused by the light from the Staff of Magius glancing off the cracked edges of a stone tablet. The tablet was precariously set into the wall with rotting mortar, and looked liable to fall at any moment.

Dalamar examined it, then stepped back, "You should get it out, your hands are defter than mine."

Deft his hands might have been, but the tablet was badly damaged and while it was still hanging together, Raistlin feared that the slightest touch would cause it to crumble to dust.

Luckily the stone was stronger than it looked, and before long the mage had managed to pry it from the wall and lie it down on the floor. Kneeling down, Raistlin held the Staff's crystal close to the cracked surface and murmured a spell that would allow him to read the strange writing. Beside him he heard Dalamar do the same.

The tablet was so damaged that it was almost illegible, most of the top half had been worn smooth over untold centuries and the words on it could barely be seen, much less read.  
The middle was still legible, but cracked so badly that entire words and sentences were missing. It was impossible to decipher what it said, but the word '_destruction_' was repeated several times.

The bottom was the best preserved, across its surface was a short sentence, presumable continued from a more damaged area above it, and a paragraph in the language of magic, clearly some kind of spell.

Raistlin read the sentence first; it was in an ancient script, but the spell allowed him to read it.

'-sealed away, mercy of thy gods keep thou here forever.'

Well, whatever 'thou' had been, it or they was long gone now, he thought, turning his attention to the incantation.

Most spell had some kind of description explaining what it did, but by the looks of it, the description had been written in a more damaged upper part of the stone and was long gone. Only the incantation remained, Raistlin read the spoken trigger, hoping to recognize the spell, but the words- _'Mas daya, ente mati'_- were unknown. The motions that had to be made were equally unrecognisable, and no material components were needed.

It was a simple spell, that much he knew, perhaps elementary level or a little higher judging by it's length. It also sounded like a battle spell, but that was the limit of what Raistlin knew. One look at Dalamar told him that the Dark elf knew little more.

"I know one thing," The elf said, tapping the third line down, "This spell has variable range, either as a single bolt or as a cone-shaped blast. That's quite rare, especially for a spell as simple as this."

Raistlin nodded thoughtfully, that was odd, but no less odd than everything else they had seen in this place.

"I suggest we go back to Wayreth, then I can go in and research this spell. Since between us we are unable to recognize the spell, there should be some account of it in the library," he suggested.

"Unless this spell has been lost," The Dark elf looked at him, "It is possible that the spell has been forgotten. The Conclave would be pleased to have it recovered."

Raistlin smiled slightly, "I have heard of many powerful spells lost to time, but never one of elementary level! I don't think the Conclave would accept a spell that's purpose is unknown. We will need to research it," he repeated.

"You will, you mean, I can't enter the Tower yet." Dalamar stood and brushed down his robes. "There's nothing left down here, we should head back up."

Raistlin picked up the tablet, it was surprisingly light. He too got to his feet and the two mages left the chamber to the dust and darkness.

* * *

It was growing dark when they reached the mouth of the cave, the sun had set and the first stars were beginning to appear.

There was no need to speak, Dalamar rekindled the fire and Raistlin took his turn at unpacking the trail rations they had brought with them. The night was promising to be a cold one and this was as good a place as any to spend it in.

Most of the evening was spent in companionable silence, seated around the fire. Once having eaten, Raistlin took the time to examine the tablet again. Almost without thinking, he let the words of magic run over and over in his head, until they were burnt into his mind.

He sat there, clutching the crumbling tablet in a white-knuckled grip, until Dalamar leant over and pried his fingers off the worn stone. The human mage blinked, glancing over at the Dark elf.

Dalamar smiled, "That stone is damaged enough already without you adding to it."

Raistlin rubbed his eyes, he must be more tired than he had thought. He watched Dalamar put the tablet away in his pack before shaking himself and digging out his spellbook and starting the process of memorizing spells for the next day.

Skull Bearer.


	5. Night Dreams Redux

_Dagmar the Dark- Well, write one. I was always moaning about the lack of Raistlin/Dalamar fics out there, so I decided to write my own. Thanks for still reading and reviewing._

_BHS- I'm sorry about that, I'm gramaticly retarded. I hope this one's better._

_Cheers to all reviewers and to Dalamar Nightson as always for beta-ing this._

**Engraven**

Night Dreams Redux

_I'd like to see a change,  
I'd like to see a change,  
I'd like to see a change, but I'm too busy.  
Tearing everyone down.  
-Anti-Flag, Tearing Everyone Down_

It was always the same, like walking down the same old road. The rain pouring down out of a gray, broken sky, the icy southern wind whipping at the iron clouds, the cold sinking into his bones.

He leant back against the wall, in his usual place beside one of the few buildings in the slum built of stone rather than the wood of stranded ships, if not the ships themselves.

The familiar numbness froze him inside. He didn't feel anything, not the rain running down his face nor the damp fabric of his robes clinging to his thin frame.

As always, he heard the familiar footsteps coming down the mud choked street.

He knew what would come next, it had happened so often. He'd seen this, felt this so many times that he couldn't muster enough energy to care. As always, the hand on his shoulder, the slurred proposition by a man so filthy he barely seemed human.

He didn't want this, he'd never wanted this, but when you were so hungry you could barely stand then what choice was there?

He would nod, as always, agree. Step into a back alley because while some may service their customers in broad sight, his tattered pride refused to do so. He would fight down the twisting revulsion he felt as he serviced this stranger, and try to ignore the sickening taste of the man's release. And he would be left, coughing and retching in the alley with only a few grubby coppers for his pains. As always.

The footsteps were closer now, and as usual he continued to stare off into the distance, crushing down his emotions under a wall of ice.

A filthy, mud stained hand on his shoulder, "How much for a good time?" a sticking breath reeking of dwarf spirits.

He knew what he would say, what he always said; 'Three coppers,' a nod, a few steps, kneeling down in an alley, another violation.

"I am not for sale."

"Oh really?" A hand brushing down his side, a prod in the ribs. "Big talk for someone dying on his feet, whore, now how much?"

"No." He started to turn away.

"You-" The man caught hold of his shoulder.

"I suggest you take your vile hands off him unless you wish to lose them." A soft, deadly voice came from behind them.

His lips twitched in a smile and he looked back, past the stranger to the furious mage behind. Magic crackled from those slender golden hands.

"All right, all right." The man took his hand off his shoulder and lifted both in the air, "I'm going, I'm going. Didn't know he was taken." Hands still raised, he shuffled away down the street.

He watched him go, feeling strange, then hands slid around his thin waist and warm lips were pressed against the back of his neck-

And then Dalamar woke up, disorientated. What was Raistlin doing in Tarsis? No wait...

The ground was hard beneath him and a bunch of blankets lay in a tangles heap around his waist. Slowly he came back to himself; he was not in Tarsis, had not been in Tarsis for years. He was in the Sentinel peaks, wrapped up in his bedroll with Raistlin lying warm against his back, an arm still thrown over him.

Fragments of the dream returned to him, and Dalamar bit the corner of his blanket to keep from smiling. What a strange twist in this oft-dreamed nightmare, it was very surprising, and Dalamar dare to hope that perhaps now it, at least, would no longer haunt his nights.

There was a soft sigh from beside him, and Raistlin opened his eyes, his white hair was mussed, and he still looked half-asleep. He rubbed his golden eyes and nuzzled closer to Dalamar, pulling the blankets back over them both, "Bad dream?" he murmured.

"No," Dalamar said, leaning over and kissing him, "Not anymore."

_The next (and last) chapter of Engraven will be added at the end of the week, for the moment, please take the time to leave a review._

_Skull Bearer._


	6. Target Practice

_The last chapter of Engraven._

_Lady Hally- As I said in Ice and Steel, I still have to cover Chronicles, Legends, Dragons of Summer Flame and perhaps even War of Souls. Set your mind at rest, you haven't heard the last of this!_

_Thank you to all reviewers and to Dalamar Nightson for beta reading this._

**Engraven**

Target Practice

_Hot and burning in your nostrils  
Pouring down your gaping mouth  
Your molten bodies blanket of cinders  
Caught in the throes...  
-Siouxsie and the Banshees, Cities in Dust._

Something was digging into his side.

Raistlin rolled over, still half-asleep, trying to get away from whatever it was. It followed him, now knocking against his ribs.

"Rise and shine!" A loud mocking voice shouted above him.

Raistlin jumped awake, blinking away the fog of sleep, to see a very unwelcome sight.

A patrol of goblins, presumably from the same group that they had run into yesterday, had found their cave. A large and smelly hobgoblin, most likely the leader, was prodding him with the butt of his pikestaff.

Beside him, Dalamar was also waking up. The Dark elf took one look at the goblins, and went for his dagger, only to find the sheath empty.

"Lookin' for this?" The hobgoblin waved the dagger in front of him. "Don't you be trying any of that mage-stuff or I'll cut your sneakin' tongues out, understand?"

Neither of them said anything, Raistlin was cursing himself for not having set a watch or at least put out the fire. But who would have expected goblins to keep searching for them even at night? Goblins were a notoriously lazy bunch and Raistlin had expected that after having lost them in the mountains, the goblins would have given up the search and gone on to wherever they had been heading.

What a time to be wrong.

The hobgoblin gestured with his polearm, "Get up, the pair of you."

Slowly, they did as they were told, Raistlin holding the blanket around his shoulders as protection against the bitter morning chill. The hobgoblin sneered.

"What do you want?" Dalamar's voice was low and deadly.

The leader laughed, "The boss gets pretty cranky if anyone see us. You see, this is mean ta be a quiet march, and we was told ta take all the back ways north. All the ways nobody never takes. But you took them, and you saw us. The boss ain't gonna be pleased 'bout that. So we finds you, an' the captain'll get rid of you."

Raistlin's mind was racing thinking of a way out. If he could cast a quick spell, he was far enough away that the goblins wouldn't be able to reach him before he finished it. Unfortunately, all his spell components were in his pouch, and that had been kicked to one side by the goblins.

"You both gonna come with us, or we'll get it done now and bring your heads to the captain."

Raistlin tried to slip aside and made a grab for his pouch. The hobgoblin saw him and dealt him a stunning blow to side of the head. Stars exploded in front of his eyes and he crumpled to the ground, struggling to retain consciousness.

"I said no funny business!" The hobgoblin shouted, "Else I'll cut your damn tongue out!"

Shaking his head to clear it, the dazed mage stumbled to his feet. His head ached.

The hobgoblin glowered, "Weird pair you are. Wonder if there's a bounty on freaks these days."

Raistlin looked over behind the hobgoblin, to where a pair of underlings were going through Dalamar's pack. A memory whispered in Raistlin's mind, slowly he started to smile, the sight reminding him that not all his spells had material components. Now, he just needed to get their attentions.

"You're making a very bad mistake," his voice was as low and menacing as Dalamar's, "I suggest you leave immediately."

The hobgoblin stared at the scrawny, golden skinned mage he had knocked flat half a minute before and burst out laughing. Raistlin supposed he must look ridiculous, naked except for the blanket around his shoulders.

Never mind that he'd never cast the spell before, if he didn't they would both be killed. He shot a look at Dalamar, 'Get out of the way.'

The hobgoblin's laughed stopped when he saw the mage starting to cast the spell. He lunged forwards, but the spell from the tablet took only a short moment to cast.

Instead of pointing his finger to focus the bolt of magic, Raistlin held both hands open, letting the magic fan out.

Dalamar dodged out of the way, flattening himself against the wall as the spell was completed. The magic blasted from Raistlin's fingertips, a bright, blinding white. The hobgoblin caught the brunt of it, collasping to the floor groaning and half-dead. Four more goblins, including the ones that had been going through Dalamar's bag, crumpled to the floor dead, the last who had been on the outskirts of the blast and only suffered minor wounds. They took one look at the smoking remains of their fellows and ran for their lives.

Raistlin fell to his knees, shaking with exhaustion and trying not to cough.

He wasn't sure how long he crouched there, fighting to breath and stay concious, but he was brought back to himself when the blanket was wrapped around his shoulders again, it must have dropped off his shoulders when he was casting. He looked up to see Dalamar kneeling beside him, smiling.  
"That was quite amazing."

Raistlin leant over and buried his face into the Dark elf's bare skin, closing his eyes. Dalamar shook his shoulder, "Come on, we need to leave now. I'm freezing and the rest of the troop will have found us soon."

They got up and packed quickly, taking the opportunity to rifle through their attacker's pockets for anything they might have taken. The fact that they also helped themselves to any steel the goblins might have on them was completely natural. Serves the ugly creatures right, Dalamar said as he slit thedying hobgoblin's throat open.

* * *

It was only when the mages had regained the road and were hurrying back the way they had come that they took the chance to talk. 

"I take it that was the spell from the tablet we found?" Dalamar asked.

Raistlin nodded, "I memorized the spell last night."

"Just as well for us you did, it looks like an excellent spell."

"Hmm." The golden eyed mage looked preoccupied, "Those goblins, it's not normal for them to be so persistent in a search. And that hobgoblin's rant about a 'boss', it must take someone of some threat and standing to persuade a band of lazy goblins to search all night for a pair of wanderers who happened to see them."

Dalamar nodded, "I daresay they are not the only troops using Ansalon's back roads, and heading north, no less. That Lord Ariakas is wasting no time in gathering his armies."

"And that is incentive enough to head north ourselves."

The Dark elf shook his head, "First we go to Wayreth and have the mages examine that tablet. There may be more than one spell on it and if they're all as useful as the one you cast then we will need them before too long."

Raistlin sighed, as much as he hated having to retrace his steps Dalamar was right. Wayreth it was. "Very well."

"Besides," Dalamar said, jingling the coins he had taken from the dead goblins, "With this steel I'm sure we could afford a decent room in the Wayward Inn."

Raistlin smiled, and the two headed off down the southern road.

_I have a sequel to this and will post it as soon as possible, for faster updates please review._

_Skull Bearer._


End file.
